Private The Sickness of Belief

[Anet Raine]

The automaton had only followed its programming; it could not anticipate or react in a meaningful way to what the Dark Lord had planned. It took steps forward on its march to beat the intruder down, only for the Sith to strike it fast and hard with an energy burst of her own. Violet power ripped and crackled between them and struck the Guardian's core with ruthless intent. The burst tore a hole through the energy sphere before the protective casing came down again and exploded out the other end.

Copper-toned legs buckled as power began to fail - the guardian fell to one knee, then slammed into the ground before Anathemous.

Anet was thoroughly distracted by her own events, albeit far less violent than the room behind her. Pale blue fingers idly felt the items and tools on the table, all the while same colored eyes stared intently at the entrance ahead. She sensed it again... a call, but it wasn't words. A feeling, but it wasn't hers.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Anet Raine

Golden eyes bore down on her kill.

A beat passed....

...then another.​

And only when it remained still long enough to confirm the damage did she her shoulders loose, and breath shoot through her lips. She leaned on her staff for support, lightsaber deactivating.

"Anet?" she panted.

A glance around the room showed her nothing, not until her eyes fell upon the second titanic wreck.

Her head tilt. Had she killed two?

Taking a deep breath, she allowed the force to guide her towards the acolyte, staff thumping against the floor with every heavy step, heralding her arrival as she searched for the historian.

"Miss Raine?" she called, voice distorted by the old warmask.

Anathemous found her way into the workshop, peeking around the doorframe at the various tools.

"Are you hurt?"

A wince.

"I know I am. Bloody machines..."

​

 

[Anet Raine]

She glanced over her shoulder at the Dark Lord's approach.

Her demeanor had shifted considerably - more at ease than she should have been, more distracted than the room gave credit for. A single digit pointed at the table.

"There's your device," her words were absent.

Anet passed under the archway and moved down the hall towards the source of whatever it was that called her. It was a short walk that opened up into another, smaller chamber than the one where Anathemous fought. It was brilliantly alit too. At the very top was a small opening which shone natural light from day, and the walls were covered in symbols and lines, with glowing crystals that indicated...

Stars...

Anet spun around the chamber with a grin on her face and didn't stop even as she grew dizzy. This was, without a doubt, the most remarkable archaeological find of her life.

Her laugh echoed up the spire.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Anet Raine

Anathemous stopped.

"I believe there's supposed to be a 'My Lord' in there, somewhere?" she teased.

When the historian continued to act strangely, she tilted her head. Anathemous was excited to find her ancient tech of course, which came floating into her hand from afar as she passed the table, but there was something about the way Anet was acting.

She followed her, idly tracing circles over the micro-energy sphere in her palm.

The chamber in which they emerged was... beautiful. Even through her visor the crystals shone beautifully in the light, enough to forget the way her historian had been acting. She watched her spin like a young girl, laughing like she hadn't a care in the world. It made the sith hold her tongue, lest questions spoil her fun.

"Hmh."

The sith examined her device on last time and pocketed it for later, beginning to wander the chamber.

"I think I recognize some of these constellations." she murmured.

"A map of our galaxy, or theirs?"

​

 

[Anet Raine]

"I'm not sure."

She stopped in the moment to examine the walls a little more closely.

"I... I don't think this is a map in the traditional sense," she added.

Anet had studied starmaps and the like many times over, and while there were some similarities, the differences were numerous. It could be that the Zeffonians just had a funny sense of the galaxy, but that wasn't likely. To a certain extent, science and math were pretty universal. There were ways in which the galaxy was a predictable place. Stars moved. So you needed some way to make sense of that movement.

So how do you work? Words echoed in her mind.

Curiosity had to wait, for someone arrived to spoil the fun.

"I know what you are."

A cold, masculine voice. It belonged to Crian, naturally. The Jedi stood behind them, in the entrance to this final chamber. He unclipped the lightsaber from his belt and ignited it - it shone a brilliant blue and wavered gently. Not a fault of its construction, but an intention of its design... perhaps a reflection of the wielder, or the buried subconscious of the universe poured into the crystal.

He held the weapon low, but it was clear he could raise to action as needed. At least it was to Anathemous. Anet, on the other hand, was deeply afraid. She panicked again and began to back herself against a wall.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Anet Raine

"And I knew you'd come." sighed the sith.

She turned slowly then, almost casually. Sith and Dathomiri talismans chimed softly against her armor, suspended from wide, black pauldrons, shifting in a cold breeze that should not have existed.

Anet would know it's meaning.

"The Jedi had a rule once, a thousand years ago. It was forbidden to draw a weapon, unless drawn upon."

Then one, slow, heavy step. And another.

Thunk... thunk...

"But you're no Jedi, are you? perhaps you think you are, but not anymore..."

Anathemous did not draw, not yet, but her thumb gently popped the latch on her sheath, ready to begin.

"Do you intend to stop us leaving, Brother?"

​

 

[Anet Raine]

"You know nothing!"

He walked into the room and began to circle the natural shape of the chamber.

"The Jedi are ignorant - we mistook dogma for wisdom. Here we do not merely seek serenity, but reformation!"

He leapt into action, swinging his weapon in a wide arc that began low and then went high.

As the Jedi and Anathemous began their duel, Anet continued to stay the distance. Her body slid against the wall uncomfortably, but for her screaming heart, it felt the safest thing to do. She was ignorant of the fact that the mechanisms on the wall began to move. Metal arms rotated only mere inches from the pattern of stars, like a focusing device or compass.

One arm knocked into her and sent the half-pantoran down onto her stomach with a grunt.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Anet Raine

The mask hid her bitter smile.

Anathemous drew soon as the fight began, using the force to pull her shoto from it's sheath in a reversed grip to intercept the jedi's blade at the low point of it's arc. Her guard was immovable, rendered heavy by metal bones and stubborn by hydraulic muscle, like striking a wall.

Angling her shoto to pin his saber there for a moment, she balled the opposing fist and swung at his chin from below.

She remained ignorant to Anet's troubles behind her, even as the room came to life all around them.

Even as mechanical limbs reshuffled crystals in the background of their duel it was all secondary to eliminating the threat and claiming his lightsaber for her own.

​

 

[Anet Raine]

The Jedi dodged within less than an inch of a broken jaw and slid back. Experience told him that his opponent would seize the moment to control the flow of the fight. So he did what he imagined he had to.

Crian quickly revealed his prodigious mastery of telekinesis, drawing back a hand and releasing a tidal wave of power with the thrust of his palm. Within it, he also revealed an aggressive fighting style - the Jedi didn't wait to measure his success - he leapt back into the action with more ferocity than his first strike, swinging downward with two hands as if his lightsaber were a hammer.

In the background of their fight, Anet groaned as she stood back up. The strange metal arms that orbited the room began to move faster, and from them erupted a soft purple energy. Flares and tendrils shot out towards the historian, who screamed as if she were being attacked. The energy seemed to follow her hand movements in particular, for it was the only part of her they seemed to strike, even as she waved them erratically to protect her face.

It didn't take her long to realize this was happening, but she was afraid and confused more than anything.

"Master!" She cried out.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Anet Raine

She missed the punch, eyes widening behind her mask as he drew his hand back.

Anathemous hit the floor with a weighty clatter and ring of steel, with no time to recover. Crian's blade came down with aggressive force the likes of which she'd not seen since fighting her own kind, making it quickly apparent she needed to treat this fight as though he were Sith, adjust her tactics.

She rolled, highly uncomfortable on her wide pauldrons, which limited her movement.

His blade clipped pauldron and arm both, fraying Exo-muscle that sprayed molten nylasteel coils, hydraulic fluid and boiling blood from her left arm just below the shoulder, weakening her defensive side.

The pain didn't seem to slow her down as she recovered from the roll, throwing her hand out with a sudden burst of flame from her palm, a wide arc meant to deter and veil while she rose to her feet and drew her primary lightsaber.

"Master!" She cried out.

Anathemous stole a quick glance over her shoulder, only long enough to establish situational awareness.

With a grunt, she fought the damaged exo-muscle to point her left hand at Anet, summoning a shimmering dome around her, whilst activating her violet blade in the right, pointing it at the Jedi.

Where she another sith, she may have let her die rather than compromise herself.

But she was no ordinary sith, and so dismissed the thought.

This fight was becoming complicated...

​

 

[Anet Raine]

Crian pulled his blade up and withdrew, deflecting what flames he could with the weapon, but not all. The ends of his robes caught flame, but this did not seem to deter him at all. Especially since he caught the Sith Lord's attention.

The Jedi bellowed a deep and self-pleased laugh. "You're joking?!"

He reached out in the Force, summoning threads of his own power to disrupt the protection bubble before it could fully form the barrier. Then, he rushed forward to tease and challenge the violet blade with his blue. The force supplied an unnatural weight to his strikes - again, he wielded the weapon like a hammer rather than a sword.

"You must let go of your attachments... they make you weak!"

Another heavy strike. His stoicism was entirely replaced by a wild and possessed euphoria.

"I can sense the conflict!"

A third strike.

"The Force speaks of wallow and frustration around you!"

Cue Anet, who continued to face otherworldly assault as the energy shimmered around her hands. It didn't hurt, but it didn't have to for Anet to remain absolutely afraid of what was happening. Between Anathemous's terrifying duel and the strange machinations of this interior chamber, the young Raine found herself perfectly overwhelmed by chaos.

She clenched her fist around the energy in hopes of dissuading it. Instead - without intention - one of the metal arms suddenly stopped. Its focusing devices seemed to interact with the glowing runes on the wall, as did others all around the circular walls. The loud noise of the ceased mechanics caused her to suddenly pivot in their direction. Her other hand swung in the process, which changed the rotation of the other arms.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Anet Raine

Anathemous growled as her barrier vanished.

Her focus shifted entirely to defense, batting away strike after strike. With the remaining Exo-muscle on her sword-arm, she could work tirelessly, hydraulic powered machinery acting on nerve signals through her skin to conserve energy while her natural muscles rest. Offense or defense, Anathemous played games of attrition.

With Anet in peril however, she needed to end this battle quickly.

On his third strike, the sith parried his blow with great force, aiming to knock his blade aside whilst slashing at his stomach with the previously occupied shoto. One blade to control the flow, another to reap.

"You speak like a Sith!" she spat.

"I have killed many."

Halfway through the slash she rotated her wrist, pointing her index and little finger at his chest

And from those fingertips burst blackened spines.

​

 

[Anet Raine]

The parry sent the Jedi back, and the follow-up slash tore through cloth and flesh both, cauterizing the latter with a shallow wound. Crian grimaced and tightened fingers around his weapon - brought back for a retaliatory swing - when dark energy struck his chest. He stumbled back, nearly buckling on one leg, and blood spat from his mouth.

"Ahhhgh!"

Despite severe injuries, the Jedi summoned a burst of speed and rushed at his opponent with reckless abandon, lightsaber brought back in a forward stab - a feint revealed only by the sudden flash of blinding light. He quickly ducked and slashed horizontally with every intention of striking her legs.

Anet was caught in the periphery of the flash and screamed as pain overwhelmed her optic nerves. She brought her hands up to cover her face, which incidentally caused the other arms to stop. As the mechanisms in the room ceased their movement, all the crystals and lines on the wall began to glow, and the interior chamber swelled with the Force. An ancient and twisted energy that hummed like a song.

Little flares of light began to dance around the historian who stumbled back into the center of the chamber, and was immediately struck by a burst of violet energy that rose from the floor and up through the open ceiling like a beacon.

"Wh..." Anet felt her whole world fade, like sleepiness after a week without rest. "Mm... It's... Not..."

She collapsed.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Anet Raine

A satisfied growl escaped at the sight of blood.

Then suddenly her flash-visor blackened to shield her eyes from a feinted flash, but even so, she saw white spots in her vision. Gritting her teeth she summoned a blast of telekinetic power from her fingertips to knock Crian's aim aside, but she was nearly too late.

Anathemous dropped to a knee as his blade glanced across her meaty thigh, scorched near to the bone through muscle both flesh and inorganic.

"Erragh!" she snarled bestially.

Overwhelmed and fighting the pain, she used the last of her strength to leap back, levitating through the air with uncanny grace. Her wounded leg hung limp as she ascended, panting, recovering her breath in the air. Each breath turned to mist as a cold aura spread from her hovering form.

"Enough!"

"Wayasi 'oi âhchir ki."

Another Dathomiri-Sith incantation, this time summoning a pair of sabers out of green flames overhead.

She let go of her own, and they too began to float eerily around her, four blades, crimson and violet, fanned out like a grim halo, then slowly pointed at the Jedi.

The Lord of Blades pointed claw-like digits at him,

And they shot forth one after the other.

​

 

[Anet Raine]

Crian shook and breathed like a wild animal. The Sith managed to escape his immediate follow-up and took to a lofty position.

"Showoff," he said, bitter and amused.

Summons blades put the Jedi on his guard again - two hands on the hilt. He backed up slowly, one step after the next, when the phantom power of the Force turned the lightsabers into projectiles. He parried the first, took a step forward, and disrupted the second, but not before it managed to cut across his left shoulder.

Crian grunted but moved forward, the third struck perfectly against his lightsaber and threw him off, allowing the fourth to slice a grave wound across his right side. He cried out in pain and stumbled. His torso was littered with wounds, some deathly severe, and earlier flames practically engulfed his back. The bits of trooper armor he fashioned into scale armor clattered violently as he shook blood and fire.

"Is that it?!" He screamed hoarsely.

It may not have been obvious, but his body was dying, even as the Force screamed for him to continue the fight. The waver on his lightsaber, too, had grown erratic; the kyber inside ached for a warrior's resolution.

Then... he was still; closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. His lightsaber, held in both hands, tipped horizontally to one side. He would stand his ground or die - that is what he decided - and so he prepared.

Anet remained still on the ground, the wall continued to glow, and the interior chamber echoed with an ambient power much older than Sith or Jedi.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Anet Raine

"Is that it?!" she echoed.

The room grew cold again, subtle frost creeping across the crystals.

It was like staring into an icy whirlwind, grave-chilled, swirling with ancient powers far beyond either of them. Where her eyes should have been, shadow and violet glow seeped outward, coalescing into spectral forms all around her. The togruta knight, the ashen sangnir, the Lord of Many Faces, and Mystra Midnight , all great foes consumed by her wrath.

All bound by inky tethers, as their power fed into her.

Suddenly the very force screamed at Brother Crian, the souls of slain sith and jedi alike, bound into her armor. It was ceaseless, painful, a level of suffering that choked the force and drowned serenity.

There was no light left to call upon.

"I am Anathemous!" she declared, sounding more beast than woman.

"Lord of Blades. Devourer of Souls. Gravetide and Iron-made."

The blades began to circle around him, from the four directions, poised to strike at his center.

"Who are you?!" she roared.

Then all at once, they struck.

"To challenge Me?!"

​

 

[Anet Raine]

The Force changed like tides pulled before a tsunami, as the balance of power shifted in the room. Even as he fell deep within a trance, the haunted cries of the Dark Lord's armor dove with him. From her perspective, he stood there, statuesque, a gate made of flesh to hide the war within, wrapped in robes aflame with the Sith's own fire.

His stance remained unchanged until she called upon her four blades. His own singular weapon rose, tip pointed high, arms held straight up. A defiant blue that did nothing to defend her strikes. Each weapon flew and pierced at once, skewering him to a point of no return.

Still, the Jedi's body did not fall, and his sword remained aloft. As the Force screamed from her to him, so did it sob from him to her, until Crian let out a scream pained until hollow and numb. As it dissipated to a whimper, his brilliant blue blade erupted into a crimson pillar. His eyes opened, vacant of his stoic determination from before, vacant of his warrior's glare.

It was a fucked up kind of acceptance.

"Very well," he whispered.

Then he fell.

The lightsaber recoiled into the hilt as it fell and rolled across the floor.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Anet Raine

Defiant until the very end.

She'd have respected him for it, were she not consumed by rage.

Instead every piercing blow filled her with sickened glee. Every crimson spine which sprout from his burnt flesh was another nail in the coffin of a deluded zealot who dared touch what was hers by right of conquest, the funeral of one who dared defy her.

Then her eyes rose to the once defiant beacon, as blade shifted from blue to crimson.

An awestruck sigh passed through her lips, turned to mist, as it left her mask. She'd never seen it herself; the fall.

They made such beautiful art together, it disgusted her.

Because she wanted more.

Anathemous gently descended, each of her sabers retracting one after the other as he fell. The final weapon, her tricksaber, extended into a staff which she used to support her weight as she touched down with a wince, her wounded leg almost inoperable. That pain drove her forward anyway, towards one final act of revenge.

Her sight became bathed in green, the world mirrored and warped as the half-witch searched the spirit realm for the last vestiges of Brother Crian.

And as she sniffed him out, the force walker reached to pluck him from the afterlife.

​

 

[Anet Raine]

Was there resistance?

Did it matter?

The final thoughts of Brother Crian were acceptance, even a the end, when everything he stood for had been stripped away in a moment that changed nothing about his fate... or so it would appear. The dead Jedi's spirit was not a difficult thing to claim - whether it would be quiet was another story - one that would only be revealed in time.

For now, the Dark Lord claimed what was hers, and that was enough.

Anet remained still on the ground, albeit far more intact than Crian's burning remains, and not dead for that matter.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Anet Raine

Dark energy traveled from her fingertips to her throat, as Crian was sealed away in her amulet.

Her hand fell to her side as it finally ended, the world growing warmer as the frost receded into Anathemous, her ghosts dissipating as though smoke. For a few moments, the chamber was completely silent, all save for the young Darth's panting breathes and the crackling of flames as she stared at her latest victim.

But there was no time to think about what she'd done.

Suddenly her gaze lifted over her shoulder, at Anet Raine 's motionless body.

"...frakk!..."

Kaila limped forward, dragging her wounded leg behind, using the staff to support her own weight. When she finally reached Anet she took a knee—"Eurngh!"—and howled in pain as she reached out, shaking the historian's shoulder.

"Anet?" she winced, pulling her helm and throwing it aside.

"Anet?!"​

​